Palm Sunday

It’s been a very cold, but sunny, Palm Sunday.  The temperature struggled, but never quite made it above freezing, and it was even chillier with the wind, which was… brisk.  Jerry spent the night using my tummy as a combination trampoline and mattress, then decided to plunk himself on my lap and block my view of the TV before turning himself into a brick and refusing to be moved!  Until my support worker arrived, and then he gave me a death glare for trying to take him from her so we could do things!  Don made us some creamed potatoes for supper; he had burgers with his, and I just had the potatoes — my tummy is acting up just a bit!  Then there was baseball and hockey, so he’s been busy all afternoon!

My process of de-accessioning (isn’t that a lovely word?  Sounds so posh!) started as I offered my support worker dibs on my closet.  She’s quite petite, and that’s not a word that could ever be applied to me (except that I have short legs, so my trousers are usually petite cut) but she loved my “Canadian tuxedo”and it’s off to a new home.  I keep the cowboy hat, though.  Thanks for the tips that you lovely people have shared, so it will be less stressful than I originally thought.  Most will be done when I get back from my time with the small people, as to do it in the next 2 days will just be chaotic, which is not conducive to stress reduction.

I love Easter season, beginning with Palm Sunday.  Growing up, the teenagers in my parish would dramatize the crucifixion, and I was the lead for that for a few years.  I’ve got many stories of teens who were positively impacted by this activity, even under the disapproval of some of the more conservative elders of the church who thought it was potentially sacrilegious and highly disrespectful — these were the people who would have preferred that Vatican II had never happened, and they also disapproved of services in English and the use of instruments with the choirs — and it was a very popular event.  Fr. Leo used to be highly enthusiastic about Easter, and put a lot of energy into this period, and he transferred this excitement to us.  For myself, this liturgical period is profoundly moving.  I’m just going to skip over the skeptics who harp on the pagan links, and focus on some of the key facets of this week.

Today, the Church commemorates the arrival of Jesus into Jerusalem in the days before his crucifixion and death.  The crowds welcome him with songs, laying palms on the road so he makes a triumphal, and regal, entry into the city.  Every year it’s pointed out that the same crowd that sang his praises and cheered for him on Sunday was screaming for his blood 4 days later.  Every year, the Church revisits the events of this week, and we are asked to contemplate them.  It’s high drama, a powerful story, and central to the Christian experience.  Personally, I’ve never been comfortable with the practice of self-flagellation nor the excessive focus on the violence and suffering of this week.  The movie, the Passion of the Christ, for instance (which I’ve never watched) seems to me to be a sadistic orgy, and it’s an unnecessary paroxysm of violence disguised as religious belief. 

As teens, when we re-enacted the events of this week, we were often accused of “playing” but on Good Friday, when we performed in front of the congregation, there were real tears, real emotions as we moved the stone into place.  There was a moment in which it touched us all, and all the giggles and jokes faded and we appreciated what they were trying to tell us:  That you will have people praising you one day, who will turn on you and scream for your blood without missing a beat.  That even the friends who swore to be with you forever will leave you, deny you, and hide any links between you.  But that those who are often overlooked will be there to do the unpleasant things, and will walk with you to the end — as did Mary, John, and “the women who followed him.”  Most of all, that death isn’t the end of everything; and your friends will still be there to support you if you accept them.  

I’m going to be meditating a bit on this week’s significance.  Fr. Leo always reminded us that it was important to see ourselves in the gospels, and to try to understand moments of our  lives that way.  Each of us, for instance, has had an experience where we were the centre of attention, or were strongly opposed, so we’ve got a parallel to this week’s action.  It’s easier in many of the parables, for instance, than the high drama of Holy Week.  We’re not often going to be on trial and facing a death sentence, after all.  But there are many learning moments this week, which have deep meaning to me.  I may share some of my insights, or they may remain personal, we’ll see.  And now, puppy petting time!  Good night!